


Love in my arms

by Neuqe



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Poe's Ring, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuqe/pseuds/Neuqe
Summary: Poe needs to talk to Finn before the final battle
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 35
Kudos: 353





	Love in my arms

**Author's Note:**

> They should have made Finnpoe canon, and this is a hill I'm willing to die on.

The base is throbbing with nervous energy as everyone is doing last minute preparations for the battle. Ships and x-wings go through last maintenance checks and people are gathering equipment and exchanging frantic goodbyes and whispering _be safes_ to each other in amidst all of the hugging and kissing.

Poe knows he should gear up too, but he seems to be stuck. People are hurrying past him from left and right, a couple of people even bump into him, shooting him apologetic looks and he only manages to flash them half a smile as he assures everything is fine.

He feels almost dizzy with pre-battle nerves and responsibility of the resistance on his shoulders. Responsibility of these people, their lives and their futures, as well as countless of others. The knowledge of that they could possibly end the war, one way or another, weighs heavy on his heart.

He doesn’t like to admit it, but he feels a little overwhelmed. Everything they have done, every sacrifice they have done and everything they have suffered through could culminate into these moments. There are too many possibilities, too much hope and too much to lose.

Price of losing would be terrible, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to know how high the price of winning the war would be.

He knows he needs to get his head back into the game, be the leader the resistance needs and deserves. Unite and encourage them. Make them believe that they are not alone and that they can actually take down the first order.

He briefly wonders what Leia would have done, but that train of thought is not the way to go, as the grief weigh him down as the sorrow settles in stronger than moments before. He has immense shoes to fill, ones that he thinks he might never be able to, but he knows he needs to try. For Leia’s sake. For everyone’s sake.

He takes a deep breath as he hears the roars of the first engines to come alive. He loathes the war, but he loves it up there. He knows he is at his best when he is in the cockpit and he hopes that flying will eventually clear his head. Provide some sort of clarity and peace of mind.

But he knows, deep down, that he needs to do something before he can pilot his x-wing into the battle zone.

He has an urgent need to find Finn from the crowds of the base. It’s more difficult task than one could imagine as people are moving and sounds of the engines drown most of the noise under them. Yet, it doesn’t take him long to spot him next to one of the bigger ships resistance has.

His heart pounds in his chest and it is almost the only voice he can hear as he makes his way towards him. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that this could be the last time either one of them is alive and breathing. He sort of dreads what he is about to do and a big part of him just wants to turn around and do this later.

Yet, if he has learned anything during the war, it is the fact that procrastinating important things is never wise. Future is unpredictable and unsure. Anything could happen. Anything worth saying or doing should be said and done when there is a chance for it.

Finn is talking to Rose, apparently explaining something, with rapid voice and quick movements of his hands, and she is nodding furiously as she listens to him.

Yet, almost inexplicably, Finn looks away from Rose, and spots him in the crowd. He flashes him a brilliant grin, and Poe’s heart is about to explode in his chest.

Finn says something more to Rose, and lightly touches her shoulder before she leaves and rushes towards the other end of the base.

Poe finally reaches him and clasps his hand to his shoulder. “General,” he greets, biting down the smile that immediately is trying to fight its way through.

“General,” he repeats, and he does no efforts to hide his smile.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Poe asks, nodding towards a quieter space, in-between two x-wings, before he loses the last bit of courage he had managed to summon.

“Sure,” Finn says, as he follows him. He looks up at the x-wing and points at it. “Are you taking that?”

“Yeah, yeah, but this isn’t about it, buddy,” he manages to say, without particularly looking at Finn or the x-wing.

“No?”

He sounds a bit confused, and Poe tries to remind himself that everything is fine. It’s just Finn and he has faced worse than this. He has been in countless battles, flown straight into the danger, escaped almost certain death numerous times and he is the best pilot resistance has. He is scared of very few things but apparently, he is terrified of his own feelings when it comes to it.

Finn, apparently, senses his anxiety and holds out his hand for him. “Hands?”

The way he asks it is gentle, but honest and sincere. There is no irony or sarcasm in his voice, and it generally isn’t a joke to him, even though sometimes they say it to each other as a joke, but now, it is only serious offer of comfort.

“Hands,” he confirms, quietly, feeling immense gratitude for him and the way he manages to make complicated things simple.

Finn grabs his hand gently, but intertwines their fingers and Poe can feel the warmth of his skin. He looks at him expectantly, but he doesn’t rush him.

He wants to abort this whole mission. To say that he doesn’t remember what he wanted to say, or tell him about his pre-battle anxieties or just generally talk about the plans or the battle. But he doesn’t want to lie. Firstly, because Finn has uncanny ability to always tell when he is lying, and secondly, if he is dying today, he doesn’t want lying to be one of his last actions. Especially to him.

He sighs, and grabs his necklace with his free hand and pulls it over his head. He holds it in his hand. “I wanted to give you this.”

He has wanted to do this for a while, give the necklace and ring with it to him and also confess his feelings, but he has always chose a bad timing (maybe the Force was trying to tell him something) or he has chickened out just before saying anything.

Finn knows why he wears it. He knows the story and significance of it. He asked about it months ago during one of their rare quiet and uneventful intelligence gathering missions. He had explained it as well as he could have, feeling only slightly stupid about it, but Finn had just nodded and said it sounded nice.

He knew already back then who he wanted to give his mother’s ring to.

Finn doesn’t let go off his hand, but he lifts his other hand to him. He carefully places the jewellery on his palm.

Finn’s eyes dart between the necklace and him. “Poe…,” he breathes out quietly, and his impossibly beautiful eyes are full of disbelief and something that looks suspiciously lot like awe.

“I guess I ended up finding my special someone after all,” he says with a weak laugh. He feels suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

In reality, there is no guessing. Only certainty.

He rubs his neck, a bit awkwardly when Finn doesn’t reply.

Then Finn lets go off his hand, but only to hug him so tightly and with enough force to make him stagger towards the other x-wing. They stay like that for a while, it is impossible for him to tell how long they just hold each other tightly and close.

Poe knows he is burying his face a little too much into his shoulder, breathing in his scent, but he doesn’t seem to mind, and they are both about to go into a desperate battle, so he allows himself to have this one thing.

“You’re special to me, too,” Finn eventually whispers, and even though uncertainty and danger surrounds them, Poe feels safe and content.

Finn eventually pulls away from the embrace, but he is smiling as he puts the necklace on his own neck. He looks down on it and places his hand over it. “I’m gonna take good care of this.”

“I know,” he replies almost immediately, even though he has a feeling that he means more than the ring.

In a way, the ring is kind of like his heart. There are few people he would trust with it, and like the ring, he has given Finn his heart and its up to him what he does with it.

“I wanted to give it to you in case of, you know--,”

“Don’t you dare to finish that sentence,” he says with certain sense of seriousness, as he cuts him off.

It’s weird, Poe thinks, that for so long they have been surrounded by death. They have seen it and faced it so many times, but it is still terrifying, awful and something to be afraid of. It doesn’t get any easier, and he is sort of glad it doesn’t. Being used to it, indifferent and numb to it, would be inherently even worse.

“And I don’t whatever the hell you wanted to say to Rey,” he says, recognizing the ugly spike of jealously, “but this is what I wanted to say to you.”

He takes another deep breath. He feels calmer now. His head feels clearer, his thoughts are no longer incoherent tangle of fear and desperation. He s more grounded than mere moments before and he thinks he found that clarity he was seeking for.

“I--,” Finn starts, but in a way, he doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, not yet. He doesn’t want to lose the serenity he just gained. He doesn’t want to exchange any final goodbyes or force them to do anything that they would do only because of the danger and uncertainty ahead of them. Nothing that Finn could regret later.

“Let’s talk more when we get back, alright?” He says, hoping that his smile looks more hopeful and convincing than he currently feels.

He likes the idea of it. It is a promise of all sorts. That they are both going to survive. They are going to be friends, co-generals or whatever, even after all of this. Even if Finn doesn’t return his feelings in the romantic sense.

“We got a war to win,” he adds.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Finn says, nodding, even though he looks a bit perplexed. “Just be careful.”

Poe is already walking backwards and gestures to himself. “Am I ever not careful?” He deadpans.

“I could write you a list of all the times,” Finn muses, but he is grinning, too, “in an alphabetical order or chronological.”

Poe laughs. The sight of Finn smiling at him genuinely and wearing his necklace does unfair things to his poor heart.

“Just stay alive,” he says, as he points at him, but his smile is softer now, “general’s orders.”

Poe’s grin is lopsided as he points right back at him and winks. “Same goes for you, too.”

***

_We won, we won, we won_ is the only coherent thought Poe has been able to have since he witnessed the fleet of the first order go down.

He is dizzy and overwhelmed again once they reach the base, but this time it is because of a mixture of grief, immense happiness and relief.

He is seeing gleeful and crying people all around him, and he exchanges a few words with various people, but he doesn’t really recall what he said. He is almost numb with relief. He knows people pat his back or shoulder, sometimes even the injured one, and he smiles and offers condolences as he makes through the crowds aimlessly.

Then he spots him. He doesn’t know what makes him turn around at that moment, but he does, and he is right there.

He can see how Finn’s face lights up and he knows his mirroring the expression. They hug tightly, he doesn’t even care about the hurt arm, and it’s like the rest of the base disappears for a moment. It’s just the two of them. Finn’s arms wrapped around him and his hand in his neck. They are so close he can practically feel his heart beating against his chest.

Finn’s breath sounds uneven and his is hitched, too. He knew, logically, that Finn got off the Star Destroyer before it exploded, but it is a totally different thing to see him, unharmed, alive and in his arms. The relief almost makes his knees go weak.

They pull away only when they hear Rey made it back, too. Impossibly, against all odds, she seems to be unhurt too and when she smiles at them, all three of them collide into a uncoordinated group hug, but they quickly find their places, and everything seems to fall in place as they hold each other and hold back the tears.

Their group hug dissolves when Rey is showered with congratulations, frantic questions and heartfelt thank yous as she is pulled away by the crowd, leaving them alone.

“I heard about your squadron. I’m sorry,” he says, and his face softens as he looks at him.

Poe nods absentmindedly. He knows that the grief and loss are going to sink in properly a bit later and that he will be devastated. Now, he feels mostly numb as he thinks about the people they lost.

The relief and happiness are still strong, but the need to escape is getting stronger as Finn wistfully looks at Rey, who has ended up in a middle of new group hug and traces the outline of the ring with his thumb.

He stares at his hand and the ring. The movement is slow, but it is still mesmerizing.

“Do you want it back?” Finn asks, glancing at him, as he apparently senses his staring.

Poe shakes his head furiously. “No. No, it’s yours. I meant it,” he says, and the sheer determination in his voice catches him by surprise, too. He feels a vague deja-vu moment coming, and because he is feeling sentimental in the midst of happiness and grief, he says, “keep it. It suits you.”

The corner of Finn’s mouth twitches into a gradual smile. His eyes are gleaming and he opens his mouth, but closes it when no words come out, but he grabs the lapels of his pilot suit and kisses him.

It’s a slow and tentative kiss, but it is still incredibly gentle and a bit clumsy. Poe’s hand almost instinctively find its way to his neck, and soon he is cupping his face with the other hand, while Finn is still grabbing his lapels.

He feels like he has never been more alive, he is way too aware of every part of his body, as if he had been electrocuted, but at the same time, paradoxically, he feels at peace. Like all of this, his skin on his skin, his touch and his lips would be something familiar and comforting. In a strangest of ways, it feels like coming home.

They eventually pull away, ever so slightly, and both breathing heavily.

Poe’s mind is slowly catching up with the rest of his body. “You don’t—have to do that just—because I gave you that.”

Finn blinks a few times, and then hums. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

He hears him, but it takes him a few moments to truly understand the meaning behind his words. The kiss really messed up his head.

He squints. “Are you sure you had your helmet on the whole time? That you didn’t hit your head and got a concussion?”

“What?”

Finn grabs the ring carefully. “I didn’t exactly think of this as a friendship jewellery,” he says, “and I accepted it only because I wanted to, because I’ve wanted to do this, for a while.”

Poe lets out a breath he didn’t know he was even holding. He only now then realises that his hand is still at the back of his neck, but he doesn’t dare to move it from there.

“It’s just it’s hard to find time to talk about feelings when all of our time is equally divided between running away from blaster fire, flying away from whatever it is that wants to shoot us down and just generally avoiding death.”

“Oh, I know.”

Poe kisses him again, just because he wants to and apparently now, he also can do it whenever he wants to, instead of wondering how it would feel like.

Their second kiss isn’t at all less enthusiastic than their first, but it’s calmer, fuller of warmth and pure adoration, and his lips taste like sweat. 

Afterwards, Poe rests his forehead against his. He is still breathing heavier than usually. He grins before he opens his mouth. “What did you need to tell Rey?”

Finn sputters out a laugh. “You don’t give up, do you?” He doesn’t sound mad or upset, but he still pulls away.

“It’s really not a part of my vocabulary,” he confirms, as he studies Finn with his gaze, as he is suddenly more interested in looking at the ground and his boots than him.

He stretches his neck from side to side before sighing. “I wanted to tell her that I get these feelings,” he starts, seemingly deep in thought. “More like instincts. When something is happening or is about to happen,” he takes a small pause, looking up to him, “I think I can sense the Force.”

The more Poe thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Finn has always seemed to be in sync with the Force. Fighting easily alongside with the jedis and getting along with them. Operating lightsabre with relative ease. Being an excellent shot, in even amidst the most chaotic of battles when even seeing the opponent is difficult, let alone hitting the mark.

“I cannot really control it, not like she does. But I can feel it.”

Poe sits down at one of the empty equipment boxes. He looks at Finn. “You’re Force sensitive, then. It’s not that common.”

Finn carefully sits next to him. “I guess I am.”

Poe huffs softly as he looks at their knees that are bumping together and looks up at the celebrating crowd.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replies immediately.

Finn nudges him gently to the side with his elbow.

He rolls his eyes, but he guesses that if he didn’t want to enter the end of the war by lying, he doesn’t want to emerge to the other side as a liar, either. Besides, Finn is already onto him.

“I thought you were going to do some sort of love confession,” he admits, as he bites his lower lip.

Finn laughs again, and it is a beautiful sound, he has always thought so, honestly, and he wouldn’t mind if he could spend rest of his life hearing his laugh.

“I love her,” he replies, immediately, effortlessly. “A lot and she knows it, but not like that. I think I already told you that.”

His smile is sheepish. “Maybe.”

“Sure, it could have been fair to tell you that I already had someone else in my mind,” he admits, quietly.

“Sure,” he echoes, not even bothering to fight back the smile that is tugging in the corner of his mouth.

“Wait,” he says abruptly, “were you jealous? Was that what it was all about?”

“What? No,” he tries to deny it firmly, but he knows it is in vain.

Finn smiles gleefully. “You were, for real. I can’t believe this, this is great,” he declares, grinning brightly and almost laughing.

Poe can feel his embarrassment shining from him, even though it is just him and Finn. Rest of the crowd has moved even further away from them.

“I’m glad my suffering is entertaining,” he says, shaking his head and Finn places his hand on his knee. “Why you needed to keep it as a secret? If it was just about the Force sensitivity, which is great,” he asks, glancing a curious glance at him.

The smile disappears from his face. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do.”

It’s as simple as that. They have had to, and they have, trusted each other with their lives from the moment they met. But trust and secrets don’t always go together.

He gives him a rueful smile. “I know that you don’t have the best experiences with the Force.”

Poe snorts, as it seems sort of an understatement. Yet, he cannot help but shift little uncomfortably as he remembers the interrogation room.

“Everything that happened with Ren,” Finn clarifies, “and I cannot do any mind tricks or read your mind, but I didn’t want to freak you out, especially when we were stuck on a ship and you had no place to go if you wanted to take some distance,” he says, and slides his hand away from his knee.

As if he was again giving him the choice. A way out, if he wanted it.

Poe is loss at words. It is so considerate and sweet, and he doesn’t really know how to reply. He guesses Finn heard the strain in his voice as he attempted to joke about Rey’s mind controlling powers. Still, he feels weirdly seen. Knowing that Finn knows him well enough.

He picks up Finn’s hand this time. He doesn’t need the distance or way out, but he appreciates it still. Knowing that Finn is Force sensitive, doesn’t awake any sort of fear or panic in him, but he guesses it’s because it is _him_. And he knows him, too.

“Thank you,” he says, as sincerely as he can, and squeezes his hand.

His face lights up. “Also, it drove you up the wall, which was hilarious.”

He smiles too. “I think I hate you a little,” he ends up saying, as he looks at him, but there is no heat behind his voice, only fondness.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, and he touches the ring again with his thumb, “this tells me differently.”

Poe’s smile is so wide now that it almost hurts. “You’re insufferable.”

“Possibly,” he admits, “but you’re stuck with me now.”

“Gladly.”

He kisses him again, but they just end up laughing against each other’s lips, and Poe is beginning to realise that maybe, despite all of the suffering, this is their shot at true, unfiltered and pure happiness, and he likes the idea of that.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of this fic got stuck in my mind since I saw tros and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. This is partly inspired by the fact that I couldn't spot the necklace on his neck in the end of the movie ( i could be wrong about that one). The title is from a song called techicolour beat by oh wonder. All the mistakes are mine.


End file.
